


The Blade of Megatron

by bossladyharley, trashtrove (editoress)



Category: Chronicles of the King's Blades - Dave Duncan, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Bodyguard Romance, F/M, Medieval Fantasy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24242737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossladyharley/pseuds/bossladyharley, https://archiveofourown.org/users/editoress/pseuds/trashtrove
Summary: The Blades are not just knights; they're coveted bodyguards, trained from a young age and magically bound to their charges. A Blade is the ultimate guarantee of safety. That doesn't mean a Blade can't be surly when he's given away to a noble as a sign of favor. And it certainly doesn't mean the noble in question is safe from the intentions of King Megatron.
Relationships: Starscream (Transformers)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. The Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> This crossover sets the characters of Transformers in the universe of Dave Duncan's medieval fantasy series. I advise anyone who wants a good bodyguard AU to steal Duncan's setup for their own purposes. ;)

They always called the newest boy Brat. New recruits were usually around ten, and given where the grand master got his Blade candidates, the title was usually well earned. Starscream himself had been described as some combinations of phrases that most adults tried not to use around young boys, much less about them.

No matter how much of a brat he’d been, he did not believe that meant he deserved his record time of serving three months as the resident Brat. It had been torture. But he had survived it, and the years that came after. Now, after fifteen years of struggles and training, he was the next in line, and the current brat was coming through the mess hall straight toward him.

Beside him, Knockout arched his eyebrows meaningfully. “What do you think?“

Starscream tried to appear unaffected, but he couldn’t wholly contain his anticipation. "There _is_ a war on, Knockout.”

“Meaning you think the king needs more Blades?”

“Infer as you will,” Starscream returned, watching Brat’s progress carefully.

Sure enough, the boy reached their table and bowed. "Prime, Second,“ he greeted, tilting his head to Starscream and Knockout in turn.

"Speak up, Brat,” Knockout drawled. "We can’t hear you when you mutter at the floor.“

The boy straightened so quickly that he rocked back on his heels. "The grand master has summoned you!”

Starscream exchanged a glance with Knockout and knew that his eyes gleamed even more viciously than the Second’s. Starscream stood, chin up, and strode out of the mess hall. Knockout spoke briefly with Breakdown—only fair, since he would be Second to Knockout’s Prime once Starscream was one of the royal guard—and followed him out.

“A shame you didn’t get to be Prime very long,” Knockout commented.

“I can only assume the king was told of my talent,” Starscream all but purred. "There is a certain demand, you know.“

Knockout waved a hand. "You can have it. If the king keeps giving us away to favored nobles like this, I’m bound to end up with a cushy job guarding some low-end duke or other.”

“A private Blade?” Starscream sneered. "What part of doing all the work yourself and getting none of the glory for it appeals to you?“

His Second laughed. "What work? I’ll be spending my days at feasts and lounges if I’m bound to the right peacock.”

Starscream scoffed but had no more time to reply; they had reached the grand master’s office. Starscream straightened as much as possible and entered.

The grand master was an impossibly broad man with an eye patch over an expressionless face. There was no chance at all of reading him. He glanced at the candidates and then turned to the far corner of the room. "I present your future Blade and our Second.“

Starscream affected a smirk and turned to his new royal ward.

His new _not_ -royal ward.

The king was a notorious warrior in his own right, a bear of a man. Starscream had seen him a few times when he came to claim more Blades for the royal guard. Despite his size and obvious strength, there was a precision to his movements, and his eyes gleamed with intelligence. Whether standing or sitting, he took up the whole room.

The woman sitting before Starscream didn’t even take up the whole chair.

"Lady Melody of Westfire,” the grand master said flatly. "Your new ward, Prime.“

Starscream gritted his teeth, but he did manage a bow to the woman. For her part, she gazed curiously at him. There was enough calculation in her eyes that he understood that he was a royal gift to her, and she was taking his measure.

Damn! Damn, damn, damn!

"Lady Melody, this is Sir Starscream, one of our finest,” the grand master continued.

Even the miracle of a compliment from the grand master couldn’t lift his mood. Lady Melody offered, “A pleasure to meet you.”

“And you,” Starscream managed at the same moment that Knockout said, “The pleasure is _all_ ours.”

“Do you have any questions before we prepare for the binding ceremony?” the grand master asked.

Lady Melody narrowed her eyes at him, and Starscream narrowed his eyes right back at her, putting some effort into not scowling. "No,“ she decided.

Starscream only had one question, but it wasn’t one he felt the grand master would take kindly to.

 _Why_ **_her_ ** _?_

* * *

“Stop sulking.”

Starscream hunched his shoulders over the rampart he was leaning on but otherwise ignored the Second. Knockout joined him anyway, folding his arms smoothly over the stone. “It’s hardly legendary Blade behavior,” he added.

“I am not sulking,” Starscream retorted. “I am contemplating my future, which if you haven’t noticed just took a horrific dive into tedious anonymity.”

“Trade you.”

Starscream rolled his eyes. Knockout had been this way for as long as they had known each other. “Unlike you, Knockout, my ambition is not limited to moderate comfort.”

“And unlike _you_ , I’m not blind to everything but my own goals.”

Starscream scowled. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Knockout’s eyebrows ascended. “Perhaps you’d feel better about your fate if you took a good look at your ward.”

“I can always trust you to remember your priorities, Knockout,” Starscream sneered. “Who cares whether she tickles your fancy? She’s minor nobility at best. In all likelihood I’ll never even draw my sword.”

Knockout spread his hands with a sigh. “You know I’d take this terrible burden from you if I could.”

“If only,” Starscream grumbled. After he left for his distinctly unglamorous life, Knockout would be Prime—and whoever came next with a need for a Blade would get him. Starscream bitterly hoped it wouldn’t be the king. “Just skewer me.”

Knockout patted his shoulder. “Let’s save that for the ritual.”

Starscream had witnessed a hundred binding rituals and taken part in more than a few of them. All the candidates had the ceremony drilled into their heads from the time they arrived as brats. Every part of it was rote. It was a complex spell that required the summoning of all eight elements. Fortunately the grand master recited most of it, but at this point Starscream could have said it himself.

Even so, when he arrived to find everything ready for him, he was so twitchy that he could barely unbutton his doublet. As he stripped to the waist, he shot furtive glances at the assembled casters. Familiar faces took up the corners of the physical elements, including Breakdown standing stolidly at earth. The grand master was pinning him with an unnerving one-eyed stare from the place of time, and Knockout lounged across from the grand master to represent chance. Starscream refused to look at where he knew Lady Westfire stood at love.

But he did cast a wary look at his own place: death.

He flexed his fingers uselessly as Knockout marked him with charcoal. The Second, who only came up to his shoulder anyway, put two fingers on his sternum and expertly measured to the side to smudge the skin just over his heart. With an unwelcome smirk, Knockout resumed his place.

The air hummed as the ritual began. Starscream tried to watch the grand master, Dreadwing, Brat, _anyone_ else, but it couldn’t be helped that his ward was standing right across from him, and she was holding the only part of this whole disaster that he could still look forward to.

Whenever a Prime was bound, the Blade blacksmiths forged him his perfect sword. And this was Starscream’s: a long, thin saber, nearly a rapier, curved ever so slightly at the end. It was thin enough to pierce like a needle and just stout enough to execute deadly slashes without bending to the force behind them. He had been assured it was perfectly balanced to his grip. With this sword, he would be faster and deadlier than ever. His perfect match.

He tried to focus on the sword when it was his time to come forward. He took three long strides into the center of the ceremony. He had to look at the _sword_ —not her wrists, not her hips behind it. And he would not do the Blades the dishonor of looking her in the eye so she could see how distasteful he found this assignment, at least not during the ritual itself. Certainly not where the grand master could see.

“I pledge to be your Blade,” Starscream recited, and his voice shot up at least two octaves. His mouth twisted, and it was only too likely that his face was blood red, but he continued. “Your sword against danger, your shield against harm. By steel and honor and flame I will live for your safety.”

Breakdown and a junior member stepped forward to hold his arms, and Lady Melody approached him. Her part in the ritual was short and simple. She ought to have been grateful he didn’t favor the broadsword, small as she was. Fortunately she could lift the weapon without straining—and she did not hesitate to do so. Clearly, this was no court-bound noble who would faint at the sight of blood. She brought the sword up so that the point aligned with the charcoal smudge Knockout had put on his chest. When she was in place, both hands on the hilt, she looked up at him.

Starscream’s eyes met hers of blazing blue. For a moment, she was poised like a predator behind the blade. Her stance was lined with power; the set of her shoulders was command. For a moment, she was as overwhelming and regal as the king himself.

And it was with steel in her voice that she said the only words the ritual required of her: “Serve or die.”

Starscream’s lips parted, though whether he planned to say anything he didn’t know—but in that instant she lunged forward, and pain exploded through him. He arched backward and his mouth jerked open to suck in a breath. Just as quickly, she slid the sword back out. Blades crowded around him to catch him as he fell forward, coughing. Starscream touched the wound—already healed, with just a little blood to stain his fingers.

Where was Lady Melody?

Starscream’s gaze snapped up and raked over the faces around him, but he was surrounded by Blades; she was nowhere to be seen. He stood to his full height, which was considerable. The grand master seemed to understand what he needed (though Starscream himself couldn’t have said) and stood aside, gesturing for the others to do the same.

Lady Melody was standing apart from the group of Blades. Her hands were empty; someone had taken the sword from her. And she was perfectly all right. Starscream looked her up and down, twice, just to be sure. It was as if by looking at her he was centering his own world, like she was north.

Damn! Fiery, flaming damn!

Starscream did not like her. In fact, he was furious at her for denying him his chance of making the royal guard. He would rather take a beating than shake her hand.

But he never wanted her out of his sight again.

Damn!


	2. The King

The binding ritual was a sacred part of being a Blade, but there wasn’t much ceremony beyond that. Court convention dictated that a noble present any new Blade to the king as soon as they could. Most did not dawdle. Lady Melody was ready to get underway almost at once, and Starscream found he felt best a pace behind her and slightly to her right. But he did move ahead to open the door of her carriage.

She smiled at him, those lightning-blue eyes half-lidded and inscrutable. “Offer me a hand up, Sir Knight?”

In a fit of annoyance, Starscream climbed in and slammed the door shut behind him. The carriage furnishings were small for him, and he ended up sitting with his knees jammed up against the opposite seat.

Lady Melody followed a moment later, still smiling. Starscream didn’t like it. “Interesting,” she said. She fit perfectly on the bench.

“If you were expecting an obedient slave, you should have tried a different kind of conjuration,” he snapped.

She shook her head. “It’s better this way. So what  _ did  _ this conjuration do?”

What it had done was make Starscream’s skin itch for the brief seconds when they were separated by the carriage door, but he would sooner cut out his tongue than admit it. He waved his hand. “The bond compels a Blade to protect their ward.”

“From what?”

Starscream stared at her. “The sort of thing you would need a swordsman for, I imagine,” he sneered.

“How useful,” Lady Melody retorted, tone indecipherable. Starscream got the feeling she was making fun of what she saw as limited practicality and opted to spend the rest of the journey scowling out the window.

Half a day of sullen silence brought them both to the palace. Lady Melody moved through it as surely as if she ruled there. Something about her made passersby get out of her way, and it was all too easy to stalk along in her wake. Starscream could examine everyone who came too close to her and still had time to drink in their surroundings. The Blades had taught him all about courtly politics and the ways of the palace, but Starscream had lived most of his life—all of it that mattered—in Ironhall. Still, his awe was tempered by bitterness. He wondered whether Lady Melody lived here in the capital or he would be forced to winter in some dull country estate when the court season ended.

The closer they came to the throne room, the more Blades there were. Some trailed after nobles, as he did, but some strolled freely. They clearly had some purpose, but their attention was not on any ward that Starscream could see.

Lady Melody glanced at him over her shoulder and slowed. Starscream reluctantly caught up to her. “You don’t happen to know anything about when Blades are presented to the king, do you?” she asked.

“No,” Starscream replied flatly, in lieu of  _ And how the blazes am I supposed to know? _

“Ah.” Her gaze darted to the approaching archway of the throne room. “Then let’s play it safe. In and out as quickly as we can manage—politely.”

“Fine by me,” Starscream grumbled.

He did not have time to gear himself up for a humiliation before the next one found him. One of the Blades standing at the open doorway to the throne room, a bulky, serious man, saw him and lit up with recognition.

Thundercracker! Starscream felt he had the worst flaming luck in the kingdom. Thundercracker had been a few years ahead of him at Ironhall. Starscream had looked up to him immensely, and later he had been a friend. Now Thundercracker was commander of the royal guard and Starscream was being towed past him on the leash of a minor noble. The newly bound Blade looked down at once, scowling and jamming his sword further into its scabbard.

“His Majesty’s expecting you,” Thundercracker said. “You can enter.”

Starscream was still watching his ward enough so he saw her nod, but he managed to slide into the throne room without looking directly at Commander Thundercracker.

Lady Westfire strode toward the throne rather quickly—not as if she were eager to see the king, but as if she had places to be. Starscream kept pace with her easily, as his legs were much longer. He was forced to admire the way she carried herself, and after a moment he reluctantly copied it to save his own dignity.  _ I am here because I decided to be _ , the walk said. He filed it away for later, because most of his walks, he had been informed by Knockout, said either  _ I am having a fit _ or  _ Something is chasing me _ .

Knockout was just jealous, the stout little cretin.

By the time they arrived before the king and bowed, Starscream looked like a proper Blade. The king’s eyes, dark and sharp as ever, lingered just long enough to note his existence before turning to Lady Melody. “Your trip to Ironhall went well, then,” he rumbled. His voice matched his appearance, knowing and thunderous.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she returned with impenetrable politeness. “I am very grateful to have been given a Blade.”

The king watched her like a predator. Starscream realized with an uncomfortable start that the king was lying in wait for a smile, a slip of familiarity. He very much wanted a real response. But Lady Westfire must have realized it, too, because she gave him nothing. “Someone so valuable must be protected,” the king said lowly.

“Very kind of you, Your Majesty,” she said.

The king tilted his head at her reply, taking her in with that unwavering gaze. “I hope he serves you well.”

_ Look at me! _ Starscream thought furiously.  _ I’ve been training since I was eleven to protect you! I am a living weapon! _

Not that the king would ever know that now.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lady Melody replied. The king leaned back and dismissed her. Even when she turned to go, his eyes never left her. Starscream followed her out. The tightness in his shoulders had somehow made itself at home in his throat. He very much wanted to storm off by himself, or go yell at Knockout. But neither of those things were possible anymore.

“I have rooms here in the palace,” Lady Melody told him as they crossed the courtyard. “Normally I would go home, on the other side of the river, but my rooms will do for now.”

Staying close to the palace was precisely what Starscream had wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel grateful enough to manage more than an acknowledging harrumph.

“Have you noticed the architecture? There are statues everywhere,” she continued blithely. “Very serious ones. All they do is stand around and frown. You’ll feel right at home.”

“Perhaps the king should have given you a statue,” he bit out.

She looked sideways at him, but before she could reply, a voice called out, “Oh—Melly!”

The change in Lady Westfire was instantaneous. The slight, sparkling smirk she had been giving him vanished behind the same wall of polite disinterest she had presented to the king. “ _ Lord _ Byreach.”

A well-dressed man of about thirty approached with the swagger of a much younger man. His face seemed permanently arranged to suggest that he’d just said something supremely amusing. “My humble, abject apologies,  _ Lady Melody _ .” His eyes twinkled merrily. “Where  _ do _ my manners get off to?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” she answered, a touch frostily.

“Ha! Very good, that one.” Lord Byreach slapped his thigh, and the self-amused smile carried on. Starscream was divided. On the one hand, after less than a minute, Lord Byreach was potentially the most annoying person he’d ever met; but on the other, the Blade got some vindictive pleasure from watching his ward have to interact with someone who clearly grated on her nerves. “Can I beg a moment?” Byreach asked, but before she could answer, he continued meaningfully, “A whole evening, perhaps.”

“Unfortunately, I have pressing business.” Her voice left no doubt that the word  _ unfortunately _ had no place in that sentence. Shoulders square, she turned and started away.

“Melly—” Byreach began. He darted forward and grabbed her arm.

Starscream’s saber moved so quickly that it was still ringing when it stopped just short of the man’s throat. Lord Byreach let her go and stumbled backwards, paling. Adrenaline hummed through Starscream, and he kept the sword point leveled at Byreach. He glanced at Lady Melody’s arm, but of course there were no bruises—Byreach hadn’t even had time to get a firm grip on her.

“Sorry about my Blade,” Lady Melody told the lord sweetly. Byreach was looking a great deal less amused now. “He was recently bound.”

“Oh,” Byreach said faintly. “Bit jumpy, isn’t he?”

Starscream flicked the saber forward a hair’s breadth. Byreach paled further to an unbecoming shade of gray. “Oops,” the Blade drawled. He felt he had made his meaning clear. As soon as Lady Melody moved away from Byreach, Starscream sheathed his sword and followed. Every so often she glanced at him in thoughtful silence.

Eventually, Starscream snapped, “ _ What? _ ”

She smiled enigmatically. “I’m thinking I’m glad I didn’t get a statue.”


	3. The Bath

“Does everything meet according to your inspection, Sir Knight?” came Lady Westfire’s teasing lilt from the doorway. She was leaning against the frame with her arms crossed, an amused smile on her face, and her body covered in several layers of white, silken robes. Starscream shot her a glare before trying to smooth it into something more diplomatic. It didn’t work.

“You’re certain this is the only way in?” he asked for the second time, a slight grit to his teeth, as he gestured toward the door she was standing in. His eyes shot to the lone window several feet above eye level. All that could be seen from it was night sky, stars, and specks of moonlight.

Before he could comment on it, his ward replied, “If anyone’s dedicated enough to climb all the way up here, completely undetected, just to get to that window, then they deserve to kill me.” She said it so flippantly, Starscream’s heart began to race and his skin to itch as he seriously contemplated the thought. But then she said, “May I please take a bath now, or are you just going to stand there and watch me? Might as well join me if that’s the case. There’s plenty of room in the tub.”

Starscream’s spine snapped straight up. “I’ll be waiting outside, my lady,” he ended with a snarl. Then he breezed past her and shut the door, closing her and her infernal smirk and that inscrutable glitter in her eyes inside.

Hell and damnation!

This was  _ not _ as bad as he had thought it would be. It was worse, so much worse. As he leaned against the door and heard the bath water run, Starscream wondered how he’d gotten so very far from his goal and stuck with a ward who was both insufferable and determined to be as difficult as possible.

Knockout was no doubt laughing it up with Breakdown at this very moment, the bastard.

Still, at least Lady Westfire didn’t have any attendants running around while she bathed to complicate things. He really  _ would _ have had to stay to make sure one of them didn’t assassinate her. His skin was crawling enough as it was with just the door between them and nobody else around.

He would admit that a part of him had been tempted to reply that he  _ would _ stay, just to wipe that smile off her face. Still, his mouth twisted at the prospect. Definitely not worth it.

As the minutes ticked by, Starscream grew more and more impatient. His thoughts stirred up and his mood sour, the Blade gnashed his teeth in irritation. What in creation was she doing in there? How long did it take for one petite noble to take a bath? There wasn’t  _ that _ much to wash!

Finally, the silence and the crawling sensation got to be too much, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He knocked on the door. “Is everything alright in there?” he said, or meant to. It came out rather snappish.

Her voice drifted to him dreamily, “Oh, it’s quite alright. Thanks for asking.”

Insufferable chit. What could the king  _ possibly _ see in her?

“Are you going to be much longer?” he asked not at all impatiently.

She had the gall to laugh at him. “It’s barely been ten minutes, and the water’s  _ very _ warm, Sir Knight. I’m afraid you’ll be stuck out there for a little while longer. Traveling exhausts me, and this is how I best recuperate.”

May the gods smite him where he stood.

Starscream went to lean back against the frame and sulked. And brooded and sulked some more. When she still didn’t come out, he began to count the tiles on the floor. When he lost count, he started over and lost track even faster. Still, she didn’t come out. By this point, Starscream’s skin itched so bad he felt himself going stir-crazy, the rest of his body beginning to react to it in an almost pre-panic manner. The sensations made him paranoid, made the hair on his neck suddenly stand straight up. He turned and knocked on the door again. “My lady–” He stumbled over the title, still not used to it at all. “My lady, are you alright?”

He waited for her voice to echo to him.

It never did.

In seconds, Starscream had his sword in hand and burst through the door.

* * *

It had been another ten minutes since Starscream’s first interruption, and Melody was just starting to feel the knots in her back and neck loosen from the water’s heat. By turning her current situation over and over again, she’d given herself a headache, but the steam was helping with the pain immensely.

Those were the only things cured. She still had no answers about why she now had a Blade protector because she still had no answers about why at least part of King Megatron’s attention had turned toward her to begin with.

Or perhaps she did know and just didn’t want to fully acknowledge the fact.

As limited as his attention was, it was the  _ last _ thing she had ever wanted. Most people Megatron found favor with took it as an honor. Lady Westfire, on the other hand, was wary at best, angry on principle, and terrified at worst.

And now she had this Blade to deal with. Truthfully, Melody had never paid much attention to the Blades or asked too many questions about them. To her, they were simply more tools for the king to use, no matter their rituals and long-standing history. She didn’t have too great of an understanding as to how this bond between them even worked, and so decided to defer to Sir Starscream for those matters.

She smiled fondly at the name. He’d certainly proven to be dramatic, so at least that part of his namesake held true. She had no idea about the rest and hadn’t asked him about it. How could she when it was so apparent that he hated her?

Her smile faded. Yes, her Blade hated her, she picked up on that rather clearly. She supposed her teasing him didn’t help soften his feelings toward her any, but she wasn’t sure what else to do. He’d already made up his mind about her before they were even properly introduced.

Nothing for it, really. She would just have to govern her house and her lands as she always had. The Blade would find his own way to adjust and fit in sooner or later. They both would.

For now, she’d stop worrying so much about everything and wash this shampoo out of her hair.

Taking a deep breath, Melody closed her eyes and dunked her head completely under the water. A beat later Starscream knocked for the second time.

He burst in just after she re-emerged from the water.

* * *

“Lady West—” Starscream didn’t get two words out before he froze in place, eyes wide and staring.

At her, in the tub, perfectly fine, and looking back at him with equal parts surprise and confusion.

As if through a lens, Starscream felt his gaze slowly slip and take in the scene.

The attacker he imagined to be here was just that: an imagining. Instead, the only person being attacked was him if he counted the way her hair was so dark and straight when it was wet, or the way it fell against the creamy curve of her shoulders, or the droplets of water that were slowly making their way down her collarbone, or how her arm was slowly raising itself, a hard bar of soap in hand, preparing to throw—

Starscream blinked and snapped to her eyes, which were at once chilling and sparking.

“You have five seconds to get out before I throw this,” she warned, that steel from the ritual back in her voice. Starscream felt himself react to it.

“I—”

“Four,” she said calmly.

“I was only—”

“Three.”

Starscream sheathed his sword and scrambled for the door.

“Two.”

He was opening it–

“One.”

—And closing it just as something incredibly solid thudded hard against the wood.

* * *

Starscream scowled at her back, which was no longer exposed to nothing but warm water but clothed in those ridiculous robes again. She ran a brush through her drying hair as if nothing at all had happened. As if he weren’t even in the room.

Starscream scowled harder. “What were you doing in there?”

Melody contemplated telling him something truly scandalous but decided to save it for another time. His face only just stopped being completely red from embarrassment. She looked at him placidly through their reflections in the mirror. “Washing my hair.”

“And did you have to practically drown yourself to accomplish that?”

“I don’t like being bathed by other people, so how else was I to do it?”

The silence between them was hot and thick. At least, she put down her brush and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any undue distress. I still don’t fully understand how this bond works.”

Starscream crossed his arms but still refused to explain it. He refused to explain that brief second where he knew her lungs had seized, begging for air, how his mind had jumped to someone choking her, strangling the life from her.

Because that would mean thinking and talking about what came after, and Starscream very much wanted to forget the whole thing, forever.

Starscream glared at everything but her. “Just don’t do it again,” he grumbled, both of them full well knowing she would.

It was only because the tension between them was so thick that Melody shrugged and said, “If baths are so dangerous, then I guess that means I’ll refrain from going skinny-dipping in the lake for now. Wouldn’t want my dear Blade to collapse from a heart attack.”

Starscream snarled right on cue. “Yes,  _ do _ spare me.”


	4. The First Night

The sun had been down for hours by the time Starscream finally got a moment of peace and quiet.

Admittedly,  _ peace _ was stretching the truth. Lady Melody had gone to bed, and Starscream had stoically remained outside in the suite's parlor despite the strain of the bond and her suggestions to the contrary. In truth it was  _ because _ of her suggestions, delivered with a smirk and raised eyebrow, that he stayed out. He knew when he was being mocked.

But the bond railed at him. He had spent the past hour pacing the parlor mercilessly. He had  _ no _ idea what was going on in her bedchambers. Anything could be happening, and he wouldn't be there to stand between her and danger. The uncertainty of it was eating at him from the inside.

Starscream took another lap around the room, drumming his fingertips against his opposite arm. All at once restlessness overwhelmed him and he started tugging off his upper armor. It came off easily enough. His shirt gave him some trouble; in his agitation, he got tangled up halfway through pulling it off. But after a moment, that was tossed aside, too. An ornamental mirror hung on one wall of the parlor.

Starscream was not in the habit of collecting scars. Blade training inevitably left some, but his were few and small. He was proud of that fact. While other swordsmen took risks and learned the hard way, Starscream kept out of the way of a blade the first time.

He examined his newest scar in the mirror. A short, thick line puckered the skin just over his heart. He exhaled silently and ran his fingers over it. When he twisted around, an almost identical mark scored his back, where the sword had come out the other side. It was a reminder that what was done couldn't be undone—at least not easily. Unhappy as he was with his circumstances, Starscream was not eager to go through with the unbinding ceremony. A Blade's chances of survival with that ritual were too slim.

He paused to listen for any movement in the next room, but there was only silence. He couldn't even hear her breathing. His whole body fizzled with slow panic.

Damn her! Damn the bond! Grinding his teeth, Starscream forced his unruly shirt back on and collapsed on the couch with a huff. He lay there and glowered at the ceiling, fighting the rising urge to go check on Lady Melody. He finally had the opportunity to sleep, and he was going to flaming take it.

He had the opportunity, but not, it seemed, the ability.

Despite how the day had wrung him out, he couldn't drift off. The bond pulled at him ever more insistently. Starscream lay there for what seemed like a mortal age, but it was in vain. Finally, he rolled off the couch and resumed his pacing, this time with the addition of snarling. The denial of sleep had blackened his already foul mood. He almost wished someone would break in and try an assassination just so he could skewer someone.

No one broke in. But someone did knock on the door.

Starscream glared at the entrance to the hall. With one hand on the hilt of his sword, he stormed over and wrenched the door open.

Commander Thundercracker stood in the hall. Beside him was another friend from Ironhall—Skywarp. Skywarp was the sort of energetic young man that you couldn't help being fond of, even if, like Starscream, you tried very hard not to. Both Blades grinned at him.

"What do  _ you _ want?" Starscream snapped.

Thundercracker's brow furrowed. " _ Blazes, _ Starscream. We're friends."

"Don't take it personally," Skywarp said. "It's his first night." He pulled a face at Starscream. "Doesn't it feel like your skin is crawling?"

"Yes," Starscream admitted grudgingly, and let them in. He harrumphed when he saw that they had come alone. "How can you two stand to be away from the king?" he demanded.

"There are nearly forty of us and only one king," Thundercracker said. "Goodness' sake, sit  _ down _ , Starscream. You look like you're all nerves."

"More than usual," Skywarp supplied.

Starscream let his friends bully him back onto the couch, where they pinned him in on either side. Skywarp produced a flask, and Starscream accepted it like a holy blessing. "You drink, and we'll explain," Skywarp ordered.

"Mm," replied Starscream, who was already several warm swallows into the flask.

Thundercracker shifted. "First things first." He looked straight at Starscream. "I swear to protect your ward."

At first Starscream thought it was the drink soothing his nerves, but mere alcohol couldn't explain the way his fear and tension drained away into nothing. He took a deep, free breath and promptly sputtered. "How did you do that?"

"A bonded Blade can trade duty with another," Thundercracker explained, and immediately added, " _ but _ only for a short time. We can take a few shifts and ease the bond's hold on you, but it's still there. You'll start to feel it again if you spend more than a day away from your ward."

Starscream grimaced. But the lack of fear was such a miraculous relief that he took another sip from the flask instead of complaining.

"The commander and I will be glad to give you the night off every now and again," Skywarp assured him. "Hell, any of the royal guard will. It's not like we have much else to do while we're hanging around the palace on rotation."

"But there  _ will _ be nights like this," Starscream said glumly.

"Not for long." Skywarp clapped his shoulder. "It gets better."

"The other thing you need to know," Thundercracker rumbled, "is that we don't sleep."

Starscream stared. "Ever?"

"Ever. We don't need to."

"Fiery damn," Starscream muttered, and accidentally finished off the flask.

Thundercracker laughed and put his hand atop Starscream's head, completely mussing his hair. Starscream felt for a moment like an Ironhall junior, and it wasn't an entirely unwelcome feeling.

And just like in their younger years, Skywarp leaned over with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Thundercracker, you didn't tell him the  _ other _ thing he needs to know."

"What?" Starscream asked warily.

" _ You _ know," Skywarp said, still addressing the commander, "about how the bond affects your  _ appetite _ ."

"Skywarp," Thundercracker warned.

"What are you talking about?" Starscream demanded, voice shooting up. The other two Blades exchanged knowing looks—one amused, one exasperated—but did not answer him. Starscream scowled at them both.

"Loosen up, brother," Skywarp said breezily. He draped an arm over Starscream's shoulders. "It's your night off. Come say hello to the other Blades."


	5. The Other Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We didn't make up any Blade lore for this one. Dave Duncan really just did that.

Starscream had been surprised to find that the king's palace was still quite active at this late hour. Nobles lingered around the sitting room, talking amongst themselves, drinks in hand. A spare few had Blades hovering near their backs, a bored expression on their proud faces. Starscream nodded to them in sympathy. He'd be doing the same right now if Thundercracker hadn't relieved him of duty. 

_ Temporarily _ , he reminded himself with an internal grimace. 

"And what happened after that?" an airy, playful voice purred near his ear. Reminding him where he was, and who he was entertaining. 

Starscream brought his attention back to the blonde woman in the fetching blue bodice who had snagged his gaze upon entering the room. Lady Katherine Varville. With an apologetic smile on his face, he said in a regretful tone, "Oh, it was quite tragic. Cliffjumper went utterly mad, you see. It's a common fate of a Blade who loses their charge."

Lady Katherine was an attentive audience. She reacted at all the right moments, like she was supposed to.  _ Unlike that chit sleeping upstairs _ . A gasp escaped her at his admission, and she fluttered her fan in dismay. "Oh, no, that's horrible! I didn't realize…"

"Most don't."

"But what happened to him after? Did he recover?"

"Sadly, no. He was quite gone. Worse, a danger to himself and others. When he tried to attack the king, we were forced to intervene. I actually felled him myself." He'd moved faster than all the others. Starscream couldn't stop the scowl from appearing on his face, his brow scrunched in consternation. It had been that moment that he had been so sure King Megatron would appoint him as a King's Blade. Starscream had been made to protect him and, unlike most, had proven it from the first. So why had he gotten stuck with Lady Westfire instead? Did Megatron not realize who had saved him? Worse, had he forgotten?

A weight on his chest. Starscream looked down to find Lady Katherine's pale, delicate hand resting there, her nails painted a faint, glossy pink. Seashells upon the sand. "I'm sorry, Sir Starscream. It must have been so awful."

"It was." Starscream familiarized himself with the curve of her small waist, covered her hand with his own. His thumb stroked the inside of her smooth palm. "But everything is much better now." 

A light dusting of pink rose on her cheeks, but Lady Katherine was not the shrinking violet she pretended to be. There was a knowing, eager fire in her eyes as she looked at him. The sight of it turned his insides molten. Ever since he'd been bound, he'd been plagued by another itch, faint, easily ignored due to the overpowering sensation of the bond with his ward. But now the skin-crawling sensation was gone, and he knew exactly what this other itch meant, how it begged him to scratch it—and he was only too happy to oblige with the beauty in his arms. 

His tone low, he leaned toward the lady and said only for her, "Why don't you and I—"

Starscream jerked as a hand clapped down hard onto his shoulder and a familiar, chipper voice said, "Screamer! There you are! I was wondering where you'd gotten off to."

Starscream glared murderously at Skywarp, who ignored it with the expert finesse of a scheming child, his grin growing wider. Not looking at all irritated that Starscream had slipped away from him and three other Blades around four rooms back, Starscream was annoyed to find. "Forgive me, Lady Katherine,” Skywarp said with the air of the most contrite gentleman, “but might I steal him away for a minute? Blade business."

Skywarp managed to steer Starscream out of the room, the younger Blade hissing and grousing under his breath all the while. But then he snapped to attention, his gaze flying to Skywarp in panic. "My ward—"

"Is fine," Skywarp assured with an apologetic smile. "Thundercracker's with her."

"Then what could be so rutting important that you couldn't wait until  _ after _ I took that vision to bed?" A thought occurred to him. "Did the king—?"

"Lady Katherine's eyes  _ are  _ rather striking, aren't they?" Skywarp said with a knowing smile. "But no, there's nothing going on with the king. I don't actually need you for anything at all, except to keep you from making a huge mistake with said lady."

_ "What?" _ Starscream squawked, looking at Skywarp like he’d lost his mind. 

"You're new to court, Starscream, so it's understandable that you're a little slow. But take it from me.” Skywarp gave a shit-eating grin. “If you're going to start an affair with a married woman, maybe  _ don't  _ start with the Chancellor's wife. The both of them would bring you nothing but trouble, you and Lady Westfire."

"The Chancellor," Starscream breathed, feeling his ardor slip for a moment. Oh, yes, he'd heard of the infamous Chancellor. Always stirring things up, always conducting witch hunts. His word could make or break noble and Blade alike, had even put some of them to death because, for whatever reason, he had Megatron's ear. 

And Starscream had been about to bed the man's wife, thoroughly. 

Skywarp laughed. "You look about as horrified as I did when I realized who you were wooing in there. But nothing wrong with a little flirting, right? Katherine will move on, try to snag another Blade too green to know any better. In the meantime, come with me." Skywarp braced an arm around Starscream's shoulders, his grin mischievous. "I know a set of twins that I think you'll  _ love _ to meet."

* * *

Melody didn't know what had woken her, but she knew with certainty that she couldn't fall back asleep. Restlessness had set in. 

It was this palace. It was that tyrant on the throne. It was her Blade, a clever watchdog that the tyrant had given her, masquerading as a gift. All of it pressed down on her, a stone slowly crushing her flat. But she believed she could manage her Blade, perhaps turn him into an asset instead of weathering him as a tool for Megatron. Before anything, though, she needed to learn more about the Blades themselves, what they believed in, what their limits were, just how protective of their wards they needed to be. 

Since sleep eluded her, Melody decided to get out of bed and ask Starscream. But when she donned her robe and exited her bedchambers, she drew up short. Starscream wasn't anywhere in the parlor. Instead, seated on the couch and reading a thick text was another man in uniform. Another Blade that she only vaguely recognized. He had allowed them inside the throne room to see the king. 

The Blade looked up, quickly shut his book, set it aside, and rose. He towered over her as easily as Starscream did, though his shoulders were much broader. "Lady Westfire, is everything alright? Have I disturbed you?"

"I—no." Melody had come out here to do the off-balancing, not become off-balanced herself. "No, everything's fine. Where is Sir Starscream?"

"Ah," the Blade said, a quirk to his lips. "I hope you'll approve, Lady, and forgive me. I relieved Starscream of his duty for the night. Commander Thundercracker, at your service." He presented a courtly bow.

Melody frowned, trying to piece it out. "You mean Blades can dismiss other Blades? I'm unwarded?"

"Not as such, no." Melody fought back the disappointment of thinking that escaping her Blade could have been that simple. "It means I've taken on the bond for him, temporarily. You'll be under my protection until he returns as if I were bound to you myself."

"You're commander of the royal guard, yes?" At his nod, her brow furrowed. "But shouldn't you be protecting the king right now? Doesn't this interfere with your duty to him?"

"Perhaps if I was his only Blade. I could not make such an offer for Starscream then. But the king has dozens of us bound to him, and it's honestly encouraged for us to exchange shifts with fellow King's Blades or take on another Blade's ward. Prevents us from driving ourselves or the king insane, you see."

_ Dozens of Blades… _ She filed that away for later and nodded to show that she was following along. "So Sir Starscream's already tired of me, then."

"I can't speak for him, Lady. But I wanted to make the offer because I remember what it was like being a newly minted Blade. Surely you've noticed he's a bit…" Thundercracker debated the word. "Tense."

"Yes, I'd say that's accurate," Melody said, remembering with a peculiar fondness how he'd almost skewered Lord Byreach just for touching her. "And you say standing in for him will help? How, exactly?"

"For one, he won't be tormented by the bond every waking moment. I've gotten used to it, so it makes no difference to me. Giving him a break during these first days will help him adjust to it better, particularly since you were expected to be asleep, and without me, he would have sat here with nothing to do, going stir-crazy."

"Oh. I wish he would have told me. I could have dismissed him for the night or—"

"It doesn't work like that, milady. He would never be able to leave your side."

"Oh." By the gods, just what kind of life were these Blades coerced into? "Then, surely sleeping could help pass the time a bit."

Thundercracker was already shaking his head, a rueful smile on his face. "We don't sleep, milady."

Melody was certain she'd misunderstood. "Ever?"

"No. Not even if we tried." The Blade’s smile edged toward a smirk. “Starscream asked the same thing, you know, but I’m not sure which of you is taking it worse.”

"Gods…" Melody walked over and took a seat on the couch. Thundercracker joined her at a respectful distance. "So what  _ do _ you occupy your time with?"

"Well," Thundercracker hedged. "It depends on one's taste, but I tend to practice swordplay. Or read," he added with a twinkle in his eye, showing her the tome.

" _ A Barbarian's Word: Barter and Language Systems of the Primitive World _ ," Melody recited the title on the cover. Her brow quirked. "I thought you said you couldn't sleep if you tried."

Thundercracker chuckled. "Alas, my options are limited as of late. There's few books left in the palace library that I haven't read."

Her eyes widened in awe. "Really?" But then she sobered. "I suppose… With all that time… Must be nice."

"It has its uses," Thundercracker agreed, "but things can get dull pretty easily."

"So is that what Starscream's doing now? Reading?"

"Can he sit still long enough to read?" Thundercracker's eyes were normally sharp, but now they were softened by a hint of fondness. "No, my guess is he's practicing his swordplay."

Melody considered that. She also considered the time of night it was, the court season being in full swing, and the blushing debutantes and bored ladies looking for excitement. Dryly, she said, "He's getting laid, isn't he?"

"Well." Thundercracker laughed, surprised at her intuition, and vulgarity. His eyes dancing, he sent her an approving nod. "Yes, probably. If he doesn't foul it up." 

Melody fell silent, having no opinion about the matter. A part of her was envious. She wouldn't mind losing herself in someone for a few hours right about now. To forget all the work and plans she had yet to accomplish. But she simply didn't have time to ruin her reputation nor, truly, the audacity. Not yet. 

Thundercracker must have interpreted her stony silence to have a different cause, for he hastened to add, "A, uh, healthy sense of—oh, how do I put this?— _ passion _ is yet another side effect of the binding."

Melody blinked. "You're making that up."

"I wish I were. Well, not really."

"But you must… Fine then, if it's not a falsehood, what could possibly be the cause? Something to do with the magic?"

"Truthfully? We don't know. And no one has really been too bothered to investigate the matter further."

"No kidding." Melody tried to keep a diplomatic face, but she couldn't. A grin split her composure, and before she knew it, she was laughing into her hand. "So then, wait… If you don't sleep, then that means—"

"Yes, lady." Thundercracker matched her grin, all smugness. "All night."

"Oh, those poor women. How do they keep up?"

She meant it to be a rhetorical question, but the Blade's face fell into a comically put-out expression. "Most don't," he groused. "I can't tell you how many hours I've wasted waiting for them to wake up."

And at the thought of Starscream having to do the same… Melody flung her head back, laughing uproariously. 

Thundercracker suddenly remembered himself. "Lady Westfire, I apologize. This is improper—"

"Oh, hush. This is hilarious.” Melody waved him off and leaned back upon the couch, still chuckling softly to herself. “Does this mean I need to booby-trap my bedchambers?”

“No, milady. It would be the height of dishonor for a Blade to get…involved with their ward.” He cleared his throat. “Starscream would never humor it.”

“Actually, I was more worried about you, Commander,” she purred.

Thundercracker cleared his throat once more, the skin around his ears a little pink. “I—You’re a very fine woman, Lady Westfire, but as you are my ward by proxy, I swear to you I would never—”

“I know,” she interrupting him, cutting her act. “We’ve never conversed before now, Commander, but I’m well aware of your integrity. I feel very safe in your care.” She winked. “I’m sorry for teasing you, but it  _ was _ a bit funny.”

“Some friend Starscream is.” Thundercracker shook his head and crossed his arms. Smiled despite himself. “He should have warned me about you.”

“You’ve known him a while?” 

"A few years now. I was still at Ironhall when your Starscream was the Brat."

"You mean he's not still a brat?" Melody grinned. 

Thundercracker chuckled. "Perhaps he is. He certainly had a mouth on him back then. Had an opinion for everything. We all enjoyed trying to beat or humiliate that screaming arrogance out of him, to little success."

"That seems terribly cruel."

The Blade shrugged. "Rite of passage. We all were the Brat at one time just as we all became Prime. It's necessary, to weed out the ones who aren't going to take the commitment seriously. Those are the ones who are most likely to die during the binding. Them, and the ones who reject their chosen ward."

Melody became acutely aware of her heartbeat then. She rose a hand to her breast, over her heart, feeling the smooth skin there. Remembering the sword she'd had to run through Starscream for him to become her Blade, remembering how it had felt to pierce flesh, to go straight through it. Remembered how he'd looked at her with poorly concealed disdain just before. Had he been about to reject her? She knew he was unhappy with his situation, but… Unhappy enough to die? And if he had been that obstinate, if she—if the binding—could have killed him, then what had changed between their meeting and the ceremony? What peace or compromise did he have to make with himself to survive?

"Are you alright?" Thundercracker's voice softly interjected. 

"Oh! Yes. Yes, I'm fine." She lowered her hand, fixed a pretty smile on her face. "I just never realized how interesting you Blades are."

Thundercracker stared at her, silent. Then he heaved a breath, tore his gaze away. "Ah, lady. Try to show a bit of mercy with those smiles of yours. I'm regretting my resolve already."

Melody laughed and stood, brushing down her robes. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, but I do apologize. A knight should never be tempted to break his word." She dropped a small, polite curtesy. "Goodnight, Commander Thundercracker."

"Goodnight, Lady Westfire. Starscream will be back in the morn."

_ Yes, the Blades are very interesting. _

Melody nodded her understanding as she returned to her bedchamber, leaving him to his curious book and his silent, ever-alert guard.

_ Easily maneuvered as well. _


	6. The Invitation

“How are my horses, Todo?”

“Happy,” the young stable boy said, a certain cheekiness attached to his voice. Familiarity. Todo braced himself on his pitchfork handle. Just behind Lady Melody, Starscream watched his every movement with poorly concealed suspicion. “And by happy, I mean getting fatter every day. I keep telling the others to sod off and let me do my job, but they act like it’s the first time they’ve ever seen a Thoroughbred before.”

“I’ll take them out for a ride later,” said Lady Westfire, throwing a glance at Starscream. “If it pleases my Blade.”

Starscream sighed sharply through his nose in lieu of providing a real answer.

But it seemed to be enough for her. She turned back to the stable boy, the two carrying on their overly friendly chat, and Starscream internally suffered.

Skywarp had come through on his promise, introducing the newest Blade to two identical sisters who were eager to please. Starscream had found himself preoccupied for most of the night, the bond and why he was there completely forgotten.

But morning eventually came, as mornings always do, and he’d found himself meeting Thundercracker again in the parlor, his hair mussed beyond reckoning and not at all tired, which Starscream was oddly frustrated at realizing. Thundercracker had taken him in with a sweep of the eyes. “Feel better?”

“Much,” Starscream had growled unconvincingly. 

Thundercracker clapped him on the back. “Keep a watch on that ward of yours. I suspect she’s going to be more of a handful than you realize.”

“You talked to her?”

Thundercracker had only smiled enigmatically. “Good luck.”

And the bond had snapped back in place, his skin crawling, paranoia in full swing. His thoughts centered on little else but his ward.

He’d gritted his teeth for most of the morning, cursing her and everything under the sun. When she’d appeared in the entryway, dressed in a modest fashion, her plum skirts brushing the tops of her feet and her dark hair in a simple plait atop her head, he’d felt himself relax. But then she’d announced they were leaving, and he’d been forced to follow her ridiculously brisk, sure stride through the palace and onto the grounds.

Where in the world she needed to travel to so quickly eluded him, until they’d reached the stables. And even now, he wondered what the hell they were doing here, discussing her bloody horses. Todo he didn’t trust one bit. The urchin had practically flung himself at his ward, stopping only because he realized his clothes were filthy and the lady’s pristine. Starscream’s sword had been halfway out of his scabbard until Lady Melody had laid a hand on his arm, proceeding to tease them both in equal measure. Though the boy appeared sheepish, Starscream could tell he was eating it up. Starscream’s lips curled in disgust. Was he the only one here with some godforsaken pride?

_ Fiery damn. _

“As for my carriage,” his ward was saying, still addressing the stable boy, “if you could have it ready by—”

“Leaving so soon, Lady Westfire?”

Starscream snapped to attention at that booming sound, that faultless tone of command. From the grounds, King Megatron approached them atop a black stallion twenty hands high. Four Blades accompanied him at a respectable distance on their own horses, Thundercracker among them. Starscream bowed at the king’s approach, noticing from the corner of his eye that his ward dipped into a low curtsey. Todo bowed so deeply his nose almost reached the tops of his muddy, worn shoes, eyes fixed upon the ground.

“Your Majesty,” Lady Melody said, her tone carefully neutral. No smile in her face or eyes as her gaze rose to the king, not at all like she’d been with Todo, warm and obviously fond. Instead, it was the same dance as before, the same carefulness. “How are you this morning?”

“Well enough,” Megatron replied. He dismounted smoothly, his large frame displaying a panther’s grace, every movement precise and deliberate. He handed his reigns off to the stable boy without a glance, and Todo scampered away, leading the horse on. The Blades followed suit, crossing into the stables to tend to their own mounts. “Until I realized you intend to leave us early."

"I have to return to my estate, Majesty." Lady Melody dipped her head, her voice laced with apology. Though, Starscream noted, also a lack of remorse. "No one else is left to manage it."

"Yes, a shame about your father. My utmost condolences."

Behind his ward, Starscream blinked. So… Lady Melody was an orphan and now the sole caretaker of her family’s lands. That explained why she was so…purposeful. Still, the realization caused Starscream to wilt. Just as he’d feared, he really would winter away from court, away from all the action and glory to… To what? Fade into mediocrity, obscurity? Watch his ward tend to cows, manage paperwork, or some other listless activity? The thought made every part of him want to rebel, violently.

To Megatron, Lady Melody murmured, "Very kind of you, Majesty."

"Not at all. He served king and country without peer. He will be missed." Megatron stepped ever closer, catching Lady Melody's gaze. Holding it with the intensity of the sun. "As you will be."

Any woman would have blushed at such words and attentions from the king. Weaker women would have swooned. Lady Melody did neither of those things, merely inclined her head, breaking their gaze. "I must return home," she relied neutrally. 

"I deeply admire your sense of responsibility. Too many lack the quality. But will it allow you to indulge in a compromise with your king, Lady Westfire?"

Starscream wondered if the king got as much satisfaction as he did at the look of surprise that darted briefly across her face before she could conceal it. "Yes, of course, Your Majesty. What did you have in mind?"

"Stay at least until the ball is done two nights from now. That should allow you to slip away without too much court gossip following in your wake." Megatron's mouth turned into a brief smile. "I know at the very least, Princess Airachnid would be disappointed if you missed it."

"I wasn't aware I'd made such a positive impression on your sister."

"You've made impressions on a great many people."

The way the words rumbled from King Megatron, it was glaringly obvious to Starscream that the phrase,  _ But I'm the only one who matters, _ was tacked onto the end.

Instead of rolling his eyes, the Blade surreptitiously studied his ward, wondering yet again just what was so damned fascinating about her that she'd won Megatron's attentions. He supposed she was pretty, in an unobtrusive way. If she managed to dress with a little more posh. But there were far,  _ far _ more beautiful women attending court this season, two of which he’d gotten to know extremely well last night. Did his ward possess lands King Megatron desired? If so, he could just take them without humoring all this courting business. It couldn’t be for her mind, which Starscream had noticed was far too sharp for an attractive woman to possess. And her endless teasing! If she’d tried that nonsense with the king, she would’ve no doubt found herself without her life much less her lands and title by now.

“Very reasonable. In that case,” the lady replied, tilting her head regally, “I’ll extend my stay and gratefully attend.” She looked down at herself, shrugged her shoulders. “Even if I’ll be quite tired of this same bodice by then.”

“I’ll send the palace seamstress to your rooms,” Megatron interjected smoothly. “She can prepare a new dress for you by tomorrow evening.”

“No, I—that’s not necessary, Your Majesty. I was mostly joking.”

“You refuse my generosity?”

Lady Melody shook her head. “No, of course not.” She bowed her head. “Thank you.”

Megatron watched her with such a heavy regard, Starscream felt himself tense. Before he realized it, his hand had drifted toward his sword hilt. He shifted his weight restlessly, shaking his head. This was his king, the man Starscream had sworn loyalty to from a young age, and his ward was in no danger. He exhaled slowly. It was the damned bond causing him to overreact. Starscream became certain of it when Megatron stepped away, his Blades now rejoining him.

“The seamstress will be at your disposal in a few hours, Lady Westfire,” said the king.

“I look forward to seeing her, Your Majesty.”

The king left for the palace, Thundercracker nodding in their direction as he and the rest of the Blades accompanied behind. Starscream returned the gesture, his gaze sliding toward Lady Melody, eying her from head to toe. Her back straight, hands clasped in front, a small frown on her face.

“You know,” Starscream purred, “most women in your position would be jumping for joy right about now, not looking like they swallowed a particularly rotten fruit.”

“You know many women, Sir Starscream?”

He scowled at her tone. “Of  _ course _ I do. And even if I didn’t, women aren’t difficult to figure out.” He ticked off his fingers. “The king’s favor, a royal ball, a new dress. The only thing missing is a marriage proposal.”

Lady Melody was silent. Then, “You’re right. A few years ago, I would have been that woman, ecstatic beyond measure.”

Starscream’s brows lifted. Lady Melody lifted her skirts in one hand and began walking toward the palace.

“But a little time and perspective,” her voice floated to him, soft yet indescribably hard, “can change anything.” She halted, then turned to look at him. “Say, have you had breakfast yet?”

The Blade was taken aback by how quickly her mood had changed from quiet and somber to bright and curious. “No…” he said uncertainly, like it was a question.

“That makes two of us, then. What do you like? Well, no, I’ll just have the kitchens send up a little bit of everything. If I’m going to be fitted for a damnable corset, then it might work out for me to stuff myself beforehand. Could give me a little more room to breathe later.”

“Or it could cause you to revisit your breakfast,” he dryly noted.

Melody covered her mouth with her hand. “And I surely couldn’t attend the ball with a weak stomach now, could I?”

Starscream snorted. “I see. My ward is a coward.”

Melody rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, I was trying to save us both a boring night talking to a bunch of stuffy nobles. But fine. I’ll be sure to dance with as many men as possible for as long as possible.” She waved a hand at him over her shoulder, continuing her walk. “Hope you have fun being a wallflower, my dear Blade.”

_ Damned, wretched brat. _

Mouth twisting in distaste, Starscream slouched and begrudgingly trudged after her. 


	7. The Warning

The seamstress arrived just before eleven. Melody let her in with a kind smile, apologizing profusely. 

"I had no idea he'd take the comment like that. Expecting you to make a dress in less than a day! I don't care if it's simple, in fact, I'd prefer it. If there's anything I can do, please—"

The seamstress, a woman who appeared to be in her mid to late thirties, held her hand up and smiled wryly, dark brown eyes glinting. "It's no trouble at all. If I couldn't do this much, then I wouldn't be the head royal seamstress, would I?"

Melody bowed her head and introduced herself. "I'm at your disposal."

"Ms. June Darby, my lady," the seamstress curtseyed, the ponytail of her black hair slipping over her shoulder before she swept it back. "You're in no better hands."

At those words, Melody became acutely aware of Starscream glaring at them both from the nearest corner of the room. She met his sullen state head on and gestured with a flourish. "And my Blade, Sir Starscream, is happy to have you here with us, too."

Was it just her, or did he bare his teeth for a moment?

"Ah, yes, the Blade." June studied him for a moment then said, "He'll have to wait here, you understand, while I take measurements. It isn't proper for an unmarried woman to be seen so—"

"I understand," Melody cut her off with a wince. To Starscream, she said, "Will you be alright if I go into my room alone with her?"

"Obviously," he hissed. "I'm not a godsdamned child."

June gasped sharply, but Melody only grinned. "Happy to hear! Ms. Darby, if you'll follow me."

"But I  _ will _ be right outside the door," Starscream continued, shooting a murderous look at the seamstress as his hand casually landed on the hilt of his sword. "Listening and ready in case  _ anything _ should happen."

When Melody shut the door, she noticed that June appeared a bit peaky. And like she wanted to give the Blade a thorough tongue-lashing. Sighing, Melody said, "Sorry about him. He was recently bound."

"I gathered."

"We don't have much time," Melody spoke lowly so that Starscream would not hear, "before he gets suspicious or barges in, so…" With practiced fingers, Melody untied the back of her dress and slipped it off, standing in nothing but her slip and underclothes. 

"Good thing I can measure and talk at the same time," June said, directing Melody to a stand elevated from the floor. "It's good to see you again, by the way. You look well."

"Thank you, June. Luck must be on my side seeing as the king sent you."

"I insisted." The measuring tape bent around Melody's waist, her bust, down her arms, and inseam so quickly, it was a blur in June's expert hands.

"Will you be visiting Orion tonight?"

June's face went from a natural peach to a light pink glow. "Yes, for a bit. He's been watching Jack for me."

Melody smiled inwardly, kept her teasing to herself. "I need you to deliver a message. Tell him I'm sorry, but there's no way that I can get away from court as soon as we thought. Megatron's watching me too closely. The meeting will have to be postponed. I'll send another message through the usual channels when it's time."

June nodded. "Will he be angry, you think?"

"Orion? No. Especially not if you bat your eyes at him while you say it." June avoided Melody's Cheshire grin, her face now a tomato red. "Ratchet on the other hand?" Melody shrugged. "My problem."

"What about…?" June trailed off, nodding significantly towards the closed door.

"We knew me getting assigned a Blade was a possibility."

"Can you get away from him?"

"I don't know. But in case they ask, I'm dealing with it."

June lifted an eyebrow at her. "Well, at least he's not bad to look at, I suppose."

"Who, Starscream?" June gave her a look that said, "Who else could I mean?" Melody shrugged. "I suppose so. He's too busy scowling at me half the time for me to notice much else."

"I've been here long enough to see most of the Blades that come to court." June finished writing down the last measurement, tape measure around her neck. "Definitely one of the prettier ones."

"You only say that because you haven't seen his friend back at the Keep. If only the king had been a little more patient. He hasn't been bound yet. Oh, what was his name?" Melody pondered. "I remembered thinking it was very fitting." She smirked then. "Also, just because I tease you for your crush on Orion doesn't mean you can tease me about my Blade. The two don't equate."

"Can't blame me for trying. You're merciless," June grinned. "Now turn around. Let's get you presentable again."

Melody didn't need help getting into her dress, but she appreciated it all the same. "I notice you didn't bring any fabrics with you."

"No. The king was very specific about what he wanted."

"He chose blue, didn't he? An easy segue to compliment my eyes, no doubt."

"Yes, well, that would imply His Majesty is simple, but we know he is far from it."

"What color did he choose, then?"

When June didn't immediate respond, Melody turned to face her. The furrow between June's brow implied she was troubled and was reluctant to share it. At last, she relented and replied, "His own. Royal colors."

Melody paled and fell silent. "I see," she said at last. "By the gods, he doesn't waste any time, does he?"

"Like I said, I've been here a while." June guided her to the door, a comforting hand on her back. "I've never known him to linger."

Her hand on the doorknob, June gave Melody a long look and whispered, "Be careful."

* * *

_ Be careful.  _

The words rattled around Starscream's head, more glaringly obnoxious than a drunk Knockout and Breakdown cavorting all around the Keep.  _ Be careful. Be careful.  _ Just  _ what _ had that blasted woman meant when she'd told his ward to  _ be careful? _

Be careful of  _ what? _

It was driving him mad. The idea of a very real unknown intending harm to his ward was driving him  _ insane _ . And the only thing she did for the rest of the day was stroll around the palace, making small talk with the other lords and ladies, all with that infuriating smile on her face. All without a single damned care in the world.

Starscream almost welcomed the break they took to go back to the stables. Until he realized she intended to take them riding. His ward, on the back of a wild animal. Being flung to the ground and breaking her neck because of a wild animal. 

His hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her from entering the stables, before he realized what he was doing. "I must insist that you postpone this."

Both of her dark brows lifted as she looked at him in confusion. "Whatever for?"

"It isn't safe."

"Isn't—" Lady Westfire broke off with a laugh. "Listen, Sir Knight, I have been around horses all my life, and these are my father's. I've known them since they were foals." She tipped her head to the sky which was just beginning to dim towards orange. "Besides, we couldn't ask for finer weather. Now let's go before it gets dark."

She made to pull away. Starscream tightened his grip. "We're going back."

Lady Westfire turned to him in outrage. "We most certainly are  _ not _ ."

Starscream wanted to shake her, wanted to drag her back to the palace kicking and screaming. But the bond wouldn't let him, wouldn't allow him to do anything that would harm her, including strengthening his grip any further. "I have absolutely no qualms about throwing you over my shoulders, so decide. Do you want to walk back with some dignity, my  _ lady _ ," he sneered, eyes gleaming, "or do you want to be a sack of potatoes?"

" _ Neither, _ you ignorant, selfish boar!"

Then, quicker than he would have ever expected, the lady, his ward, had the hand he'd gripped her with trapped in place between her hand and her wrist. With a single step forward, she brought his trapped arm down and curled. Sharp pain traveled all the way up his arm, and he instinctively dropped to one knee to try to escape the pain. It followed, and he released her before she could break his arm or wrist. 

By the time Starscream realized what had happened, she had already marched inside the stables. 

_ Fiery damn! _

What kind of a lady knew how to break out of a wrist lock!?

His long legs carried him quickly inside. Stray bits of straw and horse dung littered the floor, which the stable boy, Todo, was attempting to rake up. The boy looked up as the Blade approached and nodded over his shoulder. "She's over there."

Starscream tore around the stable corner, ready for round two. Ready to just scoop her up by the middle and be done with it. But the sight of her already atop her dapple gray mare, snapping on a rider's hat, her dress bunched up around her calves--her  _ very _ shapely calves--drew him up short.

When he found his voice again, he screeched, "You don't ride side-saddle!?"

"No, Sir Starscream." Her tone was chilly like she was speaking to a child she was deeply disappointed with. "That's not safe."

She took the reins and nudged the horse into a brisk walk out the stables, leaving Starscream scrambling for the last waiting horse, a palomino mare. 

Todo whistled. "Wow. She's mad."

"No one asked you, boy," snapped Starscream before taking off after her. 

The ride was utterly miserable, not the least of which because he had never been much for riding. Lady Westfire didn't say a single word to him, nor he to her. His mare seemed more inclined toward roaming and smelling the roses (or eating them) than Lady Westfire's mare, which kept at whatever pace the lady set, as business-like as her mistress. Whenever Starscream managed to get his horse to catch up to Lady Westfire's pace, she pointedly ignored him. The horses seemed to pick up on the tense atmosphere. His kept throwing her head back and neighing shrilly while his ward's horse kept leading her away from him.

They took a few laps around the roads surrounding the palace. Even though the sun was setting, it was so humid that not even the riding breeze cooled Starscream enough to keep him from sweating under his clothes. The horses showed signs of fatigue, too, their coats shining with sweat. After the fourth lap, Starscream had had enough. But before he could call out to or reach his ward, she snapped her reigns, and her horse plunged into a full gallop. 

And Starscream felt his heart stop when he saw her target. Three bales of hale lined in a row.

_ "You bleeding idiot!" _

He kicked the sides of his horse, which reared up before deciding that, yes, she would run. 

But at that point, it was too late. He would never catch up to her. All it would take for this whole thing to go wrong would be for the horse to stumble or refuse to jump over that hay, and his ward would go flying. He'd be free, but the price was too much to pay. He'd go mad, a Blade who'd let his ward die. 

Of her own stupidity, no less. 

But Lady Westfire's horse didn't stumble or fall. Didn't hesitate to jump over the obstacle in her path, horse and rider soaring through the air as one, the setting sun making both appear like firebirds in the sky. Lady Westfire crowed in exultation as the wind picked up her hair coming out of its braid-- _ where was her hat-- _ streaming behind her like liquid fire. 

The horse landed with little trouble, well used to the exercise. Lady Westfire was laughing, reaching over to pat the horse's neck as the two swung back around, trotting towards him.

Starscream didn't know when his horse had stopped. He was too busy remembering how to breathe.

"Ready to go in?" asked Lady Westfire when she was alongside him, blue eyes shining with mirth. She laughed to herself again and made for the stables, not waiting for his response. 

Just like that, all his annoyance and frustration with her snapped back into him, his panic utterly forgotten. Starscream gnashed his teeth, grumbled insults that she was too far away and amused with herself to hear. Insufferable chit. Crazed lunatic. A damned minor noble who was far too full of herself. Who was an utter pain in his ass. Who he'd gladly strangle if the magic would let him. 

And gods help him, it was only the second day.

_ Fiery damn! _


	8. The Dress

Skywarp took his place that night. 

Thundercracker escorted him and a few other Blades to a local pub a few miles from the palace. Starscream knew it was Thundercracker's way to introduce him to the more veteran King's Blades, but the realization that he was the odd man out—the only private Blade—soured his mood further and made him deeply broody and antisocial. All they wanted to talk about was his blasted ward. How they were getting along. What she was like. If she was single, which he couldn't fathom why anyone would care to know. She was insufferable and would probably become an eccentric spinster, and he told them so. 

It was maddening. He felt like they were all laughing at him, asking such trite questions about some nobody noble when they served real power. Starscream hated being laughed at, and he hated talking about his ward even more. He'd snuffed Cliffjumper for gods' sakes and saved the king by doing so! Did anyone else know or care about that but him!?

Soon enough, Thundercracker and the others left him alone to nurse his drink. 

His mind foggy with ale, he nearly fell into bed with a local whore who was fairly pretty in the dim light. Until she laughed. Then, her whole face lit up, became something shining, radiant. Like a firebird.

Starscream practically tripped down the stairs getting away from her, his stomach finally souring to match his mood, but whether it was from lingering rage, disgust, or the alcohol, he didn't know and didn't care. But he never lost his drink. Never veered close to hangover sickness.

Eventually, he made his slow, weaving way back to the palace. Frustrated that he couldn't get well and properly drunk. Frustrated that he didn't find any decent girl to sleep with. Thundercracker was crocked about that being the best pub in town. Everything from the ale to the whores were complete disappointments.

Maybe he would have better luck the next…

Night. 

Tonight.

The king's gala was tonight. 

Where he'd have to guard his ward while she danced and socialized until the wee hours of the morning. Just standing there, more obedient than a dog, as useless as a cat lazing about the house, with no particular purpose. 

Fiery, flaming damn.

* * *

Melody stared at the dress June had brought her, marveling at the detail. "I've never worn a dress by you before, so this may not be true," she told June, "but I believe you've outdone yourself."

The woman beamed. Pride in her work shone in her dark eyes despite the circumstances. "Do you really like it?"

"I love it. It's beautiful." Melody rose a hand to her temple, massaging the headache that was blooming there. "And I hate that I love it."

The dress hanging from the wardrobe was a deep royal purple, though light enough to never be mistaken for blue. With no straps or sleeves, sheer or otherwise, the bodice was tight and cinched at the waist with the sweetheart neckline that was in vogue this season. A vine of silver flowers made up the only garnish on the dress, but it was enough. Melody told herself they weren't comprised of diamonds and pearls but rather some convincing imitations. They teased a diagonal trail from the right side of the bodice, across her chest, and down the left side of her abdomen, before stopping at the layered skirt. 

This beautiful skirt. Four layers with the shortest on top, the other three drifting down one after the other, evenly spaced apart, until the final layer just barely brushed the floor. 

Elegant, modern, sensual. The dress was utterly gorgeous, a dream of silk organza and the right amount of ruffles. One of the finest things she'd ever beheld, and all she wanted to do was rip it to shreds. 

Instead Melody let June slip it over her corset and stood in silence as the woman quickly laced the back. She didn't know whether to be amused or irritated when June presented her with silver shoes and jewelry to match. 

Irritated not at June, but at Megatron. 

But if this was her new role now, if it was useful to pretend to be the king's latest doll to hold his attention, then she would play it. For now. 

"There, now, let me see—oh, it looks even better than I thought it would!" June clapped her hands, delighted. 

Melody smiled wryly. "I told you, you've outdone yourself."

June examined her, from sparkly shoes to her dark hair pinned up in loose ringlets. "You look beautiful, but—" Melody waited for the damning verdict, the same one she was thinking. June plucked the top layer of organza, smoothed it between her fingers with a hesitant regret. "Wearing this is going to send a message, to everyone."

"Only royalty may wear the royal colors," replied Lady Westfire with a solemn dignity, "and though nobility I may be, I am not royalty."

"Yet the king wished for you to wear it." June rubbed her forehead. "I have a feeling the court games are about to get vicious."

"If they want to include me, they'll have to pay me a visit at my estate. They can help me with my gardening."

June grinned. "I would pay big, big money to see Lady Katherine elbows deep in the dirt."

"You and me both. I wish you could come tonight. You're doing wonders for my nerves."

June waved a hand. "Alas, I'm but a humble seamstress, too lowborn for frivolous activities like dancing."

"I hope you don't truly believe that. That you're lowborn, I mean."

June shrugged. "Not much I can do to change it. I've got Jack to think about. But I'm happy to help you when I can." June curtsied to her, not for any kind of show or out of consideration for rank, but out of genuine regard. "My lady."

Hands clasped in front of her, Melody crossed toward the parlor, skirt swishing with her steps. "And I take it my message was well-received?"

June spotted Melody's self-satisfied smile and poked her in the side. "You know it was, you terrible thing."

It was that same smile that greeted Starscream's impatient form pacing inside the parlor.

* * *

"Finally! How long does it take to—" Starscream stopped mid-snap, his train of thought completely breaking apart. 

Lady Westfire threw a smirk at the seamstress. "See, your work even rendered  _ him _ speechless. Well done."

The seamstress' dark eyes darted to Starscream's sneering face, her smile uncertain. "I'm flattered."

Starscream marched forward, lips curling. "Seeing as you're finally presentable,  _ lady," _ —his glare turned from his ward to the seamstress—"we no longer need  _ you _ here. Take your leave."

As if she meant to infuriate him more, the lady shot the seamstress an apologetic look, took the seamstress' arm, and patted it while escorting her to the door herself. "If anyone asks tonight, I'll be sure to tell them I'm wearing a June Darby original."

"You're too kind."

"Nonsense. Besides, nothing wrong with earning a little extra income."

The women continued to exchange goodbyes at the door, and Starscream felt that if he gritted his teeth any harder they would shatter. "Are you  _ quite _ finished?"

"Yes, yes," Lady Westfire said, shutting the door at last. She examined herself in the hall mirror, checking to make sure her hair and jewelry was in place. "You're so bossy. Don't tell me you're secretly eager to arrive just so you can dance."

The Blade didn't dignify that with a response. He merely studied her, preoccupied at the mirror, his eyes sweeping her from head to toe, taking in the dress, how it transformed her figure from something unremarkable to…

Alright, so maybe Knockout had been onto something when he'd implied his ward was attractive. That was an annoying realization. But then again,  _ anyone _ would look at least mildly fetching in a dress like that. But she hardly looked like this all the time, and any illusion of beauty was shattered the second she opened her mouth, which was, it seemed to Starscream, every moment he was close to achieving some peace.

Even her smile infuriated him.

Therefore, it wasn't the woman who was attractive but the garments that clothed her. Easy enough distinction. Knockout was a fool who thought too much with his  _ other _ brain.

"You look nice," she said simply, turning towards him at last. Starscream, wearing the single dress garments he owned which she'd seen over the past few days, glowered thunderously. "Before we go, I wanted to address what happened yesterday evening."

Primus help him. "What about it?"

"You tried to stop me from riding a horse," she said bluntly, "and I want to know why."

"It was…" Fiery damn, he would not say it. 

"Was it something to do with the magic?" She searched him. "Starscream, I need to know."

"You don't  _ need _ to know  _ anything _ ," he snapped. "Not about the magic  _ or  _ about me."

Her eyes turned to shards of ice, all trace of a smile gone. Starscream expected to feel proud of himself. Instead, his hand rose to make sure his rapier was still strapped to his waist. "Is that so? Very well, then. I'll try something else. If someone attacked me, you would be forced to protect me, whether you really wanted to or not, yes?"

"Astute of you."

"Even if that someone was, say, another Blade or even the king?"

Starscream huffed through his nose. "Yes, the ward's safety comes first, always. Even if my innards were spilling onto the ground, I'd have to try to save you from getting so much as a papercut. Happy?"

"But that's only if you see the threat in front of you, isn't it? The magic doesn't react to supposed threats or suspicions?" She raised a brow. "And it won't allow you to do anything that could hurt me yourself."

"Obviously." Damn… She had already figured this much out in just two days?

No. She'd talked to Thundercracker, too, hadn't she? Bleeding traitor.

"Then let me make one thing perfectly clear." Lady Westfire stepped right into his personal space. Though nearly a foot shorter than him, she held him in place with nothing but a cool look as she said, "I will allow you to protect me from people you know are trying to hurt me. But don't you ever try to stop me from living my life the way I choose again, just because you're afraid I  _ might _ get hurt. I will  _ not  _ become a prisoner in my own body. Do you understand?"

The sharp fierceness in her eyes, the steel behind every word stabbed right in the heart of him, and some small part of Starscream raised its head curiously at its coming. 

The rest of him had him looming over her, leaning his head down to hiss in her face, "Oh, yes, I understand  _ perfectly _ . Go ahead and do your worst, see if I give a single flaming damn."

Only the ticking clock above the mantle interrupted their glaring contest. Lady Westfire finally stepped back, slightly relieved though her tone was still frosty. "Good. Now that's dealt with, ready to make our grand entrance?"

"I'm ready to get this over with," he grumbled, extending his arm. 

Then immediately retracted it. His ward was a lady, but he wasn't her escort for the evening. He was her damned guard dog, and he was supposed to let her  _ live her perfect little life _ .

Lady Westfire either ignored him or pretended not to notice as she swept forward. The vengeful part of Starscream hoped she would trip on her skirts and either embarrass herself beyond compare or rip the blasted dress and call the whole thing off. But she didn't. Merely glided along, not even bothering to lift the skirt up even slightly for easier maneuverability. She didn't seem to need it, her back enviably straight and her eyes facing forward, not watching her steps in the slightest.

Starscream took up his usual post to her right just behind her and tried to school his features into anything that wasn't sheer boredom, simmering fury, or total misery.

There would be at least some important people at the gala to impress, after all.

* * *

The ballroom was opulent as far as ballrooms go. Gleaming marble floors, lavish decorations, crystal chandeliers. All of it was lost on Starscream who couldn't give less of a damn that purple verbenas were used in the bouquets instead of hydrangeas, and wasn't that so in this year?

After Lady Westfire had been announced to the court—Blades were not announced unless they were of particular renown, and he was reminded again that he was no one—Starscream followed her down the steps into the room. Not seeming to care who else was left to be announced, King Megatron rose from his throne, resplendent and imposing in a silver combat dress uniform and a dark purple cape. The mingling crowd swiftly parted and retreated to the edges as he made slow, deliberate steps to the center of the ballroom.

Starscream surveyed the gathered nobles with a surreptitious eye, anticipating any threats to Lady Westfire. He would kick himself for continuing to do so, but he didn't really have much choice. His mind was so occupied with fighting off the itch on his skin, the paranoia, that it took him far too long to realize. 

Purple, silver. Unicron's balls, she was wearing the king's colors.

And the only people in attendance wearing purple and silver were King Megatron and his ward. Even Princess Airachnid, still seated upon a smaller throne to the left of Megatron's, was excluded, favoring black and pink in place of silver. And by the whispers behind fans and gloved hands and meaningful nods, everyone else had noticed, too.

Starscream had never taken much care to learn about women's fashions. The most important thing about women's clothes was how to take them off. But it didn't require a trained eye to realize the difference in quality between Lady Westfire's dress and the other noble ladies', of which most now appeared hopelessly dated.

The king raised his hand, palm up, the intensity of his gaze focused solely--unquestionably--upon Lady Westfire.

Eyes as round as the full moon, Starscream gaped as his ward crossed toward the king to begin the first dance, wearing a dress fit for a princess. No. 

A dress fit for a queen. 

An idea, small and rough, the barest skeleton of a plan, formed in Starscream's mind. If Megatron wanted her this badly, then did that mean he wanted her to be…?

_ Not an eccentric spinster after all but queen. _

And if Lady Westfire became queen, then that would mean he would be…

_ A Queen's Blade. _

Only one bare step away from the throne. And Megatron would assign her other Blades, surely, like he assigned himself. Which meant Starscream could do what the other King's Blades did. Go on adventures, fight wars, achieve untold glory.

Yes. Yes, it was perfect! He wouldn't grow old and fat and slow in the country, a forgotten page in the history books. He would be somebody great, remembered for centuries!

The page would announce him at the damn door!

If Megatron was as big of a fool about her as Knockout, well, Starscream would just keep that opinion to himself. All he had to do was get the king to marry her before he realized just how troublesome she was. His ward didn't seem to host especially warm feelings towards his king, though. A minor issue. She  _ was _ wearing the dress willingly after all, was seconds away from dancing with him.

And perhaps, now that he looked at her intriguing image in said dress, it wouldn't take much effort on his part to convince Megatron to act.

From the edge of the crowd, Starscream's shrewd gaze found the king's face, his regal attention honed upon Lady Westfire curtsying near his feet.  _ Blessed, impulsive fool.  _

No, it wouldn't take much effort on Starscream's part at all.


End file.
